Welcome to Burlesque
by Gamma Orionis
Summary: Pansy doesn't like the attention that the new girl at the burlesque house is getting. Written for hpsapphicappeal's 2013 Sapphic Love Fest.


**Title**: Welcome to Burlesque  
**Pairing**: Pansy/Padma with Luna on the side  
**Prompt**: For hpsapphicappeal's Sapphic Love Fest - A burlesque AU based upon this photoset: adventurelisa**DOT**tumblr**DOT**com/post/52420319024  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Word Count**: 2 180  
**Summary**: Pansy doesn't like the attention that the new girl at the burlesque house is getting.

)O(

"Look," Luna said, interrupting Pansy in her attempt to mix the thirty-sixth cocktail of the evening without spilling anything. "The new dancer is here."

"Mm." Pansy barely glanced up. She had been working in the burlesque house for six years – dancing for all six of them, mixing drinks when she needed evenings off – and she had lost more or less all her interest in the women who came in, got spots in the show, performed for a few weeks, and then drifted away. She and Luna were the only two dancers who had been working for more than a year.

Luna leaned over the bar and stared wide-eyed at the young woman who had just stepped out onto the stage, and Pansy – more because she had finished the cocktail than because she had any interest – looked up too and appraised her. She walked with a confident swing in her hips and the warm, amber-tinted light glinted off her dark skin. The slit up the side of her long black dress revealed a slice of lace stockings stretched over a curvy thigh. When she reached centre stage and perched on the stool there, she glanced coyly out at the audience and winked.

"She's pretty, isn't she?" Luna commented, not taking her eyes off her. Pansy felt an unpleasant little knot of jealousy in her stomach, and looked back down at the bar.

"She's all right, I suppose."

"I can't wait to see her act."

Pansy splashed chardonnay into a glass and downed it, then glared at Luna. "Just because she's pretty doesn't mean she's going to be any good."

"Of course it doesn't." Luna didn't seem fazed by Pansy's tone – indeed, she seemed barely to register her irritation. "But it doesn't mean that she'll be bad either. She'll need to dance before we can say how good she is."

"Obviously." The music was starting, and Pansy set down her glass and leaned against the bar to watch. Luna seemed enthralled even before the music began. She'd probably already decided that she'd love the performance, no matter how good or bad it was.

The familiar notes of the brass band cut through the hall, and the girl, who had previously been sitting with her legs crossed and her head tilted, spun around gracefully on the stool, then leaned back until her head was almost touching the floor. Her short dark hair brushed against the floorboards and her breasts strained against her dress. Luna let out a dreamy little sigh and Pansy resisted the urge to give her a smack. _You see tits every day. What's so special about hers?_

She rolled back up onto the seat again, snapping her head up last so a lock of hair flicked forward across her forehead, then stood up and twirled around slowly. Her skirt fanned out just a bit, just enough that Pansy caught a glimpse of where her legs pressed together before the fabric fell back into place. She shimmied, eliciting a few cheers from the audience, and then gripped her dress firmly by the front and tore it open in one smooth stroke. Pansy heaved a sigh. The new girl wasn't doing anything that she hadn't seen before – it was a perfectly ordinary routine for a new burlesque dancer. Show off your flexibility, show off your assets, strip a bit. Pansy had been doing that when she was sixteen.

Luna – who seemed to have forgotten that she too had been doing much more advanced choreography for several years – was not taking her eyes off the girl. She smiled every time she gave a saucy wink to the audience, as if the wink had been meant specially for her. Pansy wondered idly if Luna reacted the same way during Pansy's own numbers.

"What's her name?" she asked, prodding Luna's arm.

"Padma, I think," Luna said absently. She didn't even look at Pansy.

She sighed and poured some more wine into her glass, sipping it more to have something to do than because she wanted any more alcohol.

It was a relief when Padma's act was finally over, because then Luna finally tore her eyes off the stage and went back to mixing drinks. She didn't even seem terribly affected – or at least, not as affected as she had seemed a few minutes ago when she was ogling Padma. Pansy would almost have been ready to let the whole matter go and put it up to Luna simply being intrigued by the new performer, had she not asked, "So, what did you think of her?"

"She was fine," Pansy said shortly. "She'll do all right. She's nothing special."

"I thought she was very good indeed."

"Yeah, well, you would. Just because you fancy her…"

Pansy expected Luna to protest, but she didn't. She looked over to the stage and said, "Do you think she's going to stay long? I'd love to talk to her, wouldn't you?"

"Not particularly, no."

"Are you jealous?" Luna asked, as matter-of-factly as if she was asking where Pansy had put the lime juice, and Pansy felt her face going red.

"No, of course I'm not! Why would I be jealous of her? I told you, she's nothing special!"

"Normally, when people say that, they're trying to convince themselves."

"Well, I'm not," Pansy fumed. Luna had the good sense to stop talking after that, which was definitely for the best, because Pansy was barely holding on to her temper as it was, and if Luna kept going on, she probably would have ended up smacking her. It was a mercy too that when Luna's shift ended, Padma had still not come out of the backstage area, and Pansy anticipated that she had probably gone home unnoticed through the back door. She felt a little better once Luna was gone, a little more secure, and the evening went forward without incident until just before closing time, when the hall had almost emptied, and the door backstage opened and Padma stepped out.

She had taken off her costume, and was wearing a plain black blouse and skirt that wouldn't have been out of place in a library or a church. Pansy snorted a bit when she saw it, so surprised was she that someone who worked in a burlesque house would dress so conservatively.

On a whim, Pansy abandoned her post at the bar and sauntered over to her. "Hi there. It's Padma, isn't it?"

"Yes, that's right." Padma straightened up and held out her hand for Pansy to shake. Pansy ignored the gesture.

"I'm Pansy. I work here. You haven't done much burlesque dancing before, have you?"

"Just a little." Padma dropped her hand and smiled shyly. "Not as much as you have, I'm sure."

"Damn right. I've been here since I finished school."

"That's very impressive." Padma smiled politely, then tried to move past Pansy, who caught her by her shoulder and held her back against the wall.

"I… really need to be getting home," Padma began, but Pansy put a finger to her lips.

"Not so fast, love. I wanted to… talk to you about something."

Padma looked concerned, much to Pansy's delight. "What did you want to say?"

"I'd prefer to say it in private, actually." She tilted her head towards the door, and Padma nodded.

"A- all right. Of course. If it's important."

Pansy stepped backstage and Padma followed. The area was protected from the stage by heavy velvet curtains, and none of the other girls were there. The only sign that anyone used the space were the costumes draped over every surface – lingerie strewn on the floor, feather fans propped against the walls, long dresses tossed carelessly over the backs of chairs. Pansy thought it was vaguely spooky when no one else was there.

"What is it?" Padma asked, breaking the silence. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Oh, yes." Pansy leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. "I just wanted to tell you a few things that you should know if you're going to be working here. It's like I said – I've been working here since I finished school, and that means I have – what's the word? Seniority."

Padma looked at her blankly and she continued, "You'd just better remember that when you're up there soaking up everyone's attention. You're nothing special around here. Maybe in six years you will be, but until then…"

"Look," Padma interrupted. "I don't know where you got the idea that I think I'm better than you – I just want to work here, not fight."

Pansy snorted. "You actually expect me to believe that all you're happy being the opening act rather than the star?"

"I am."

"Eat me."

Padma's face went scarlet. Her mouth opened and closed several times as she apparently searched for words. Pansy smirked at her, loving the effect that she'd had, but the smile slid right off her face when Padma finally managed to respond.

"Fine. I will."

It was Pansy's turn to go red in the face and struggle for words. "I _beg your pardon_?"

"I said fine. Take off your knickers." Padma was glaring at her defiantly now, and planted her hands on her hips. "What's the matter? Don't you want it?"

"Sure I do – wouldn't have guessed that you're a lesbian dressed like that, though," Pansy said, trying desperately to regain the upper hand after the surprise. "Bit modest, isn't it?"

"Shockingly, lesbians can dress however they damn well please. Now are you going to take off your knickers or am I going to have to do it for you?"

"Fine!" Pansy wriggled out of her knickers and kicked them aside, then braced herself against one of the dressing tables, raising one leg and resting it over the back of the chair to give Padma access. To her own surprise, she found herself blushing – she danced with little more than this on in front of an audience every night, but it had been a long time since Pansy had actually had sex – and she had always been the aggressive one, the active one, the one initiating everything.

Padma knelt down in front of her – even on her knees, she didn't look submissive, or at least, not as submissive as Pansy would have wanted her – and her tongue flicked out and ran along Pansy's clit. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as using her fingers or toys, but infinitely more tantalizing. Padma ran her tongue up and down again, then pushed two fingers deep inside her.

"Fuck," Pansy muttered, and Padma glanced up briefly and smirked before taking her clit between her lips and sucking on it. Pansy bucked her hips up against her mouth, then let out a little whine of protest when Padma shoved them back down against the table.

"Don't go getting greedy," she said, curling her fingers up and slowly caressing the front wall of Pansy's pussy.

"Fuck you! I hate going slow!"

"You know…" Padma sat back a little so she could look up at Pansy, while still working her fingers in and out of her, "I really was expecting a lot more self-control from you. I mean, as any burlesque dancer knows, there's nothing sexier than restraint."

"That's my job, Goddamnit, not what I do in bed!"

"Nonetheless, I would think that, given that you're so experienced–"

"Oh, just shut up!" Pansy clamped down on her fingers and arched her back. "Shut up and hurry up – you're driving me out of my mind!"

Padma had the good sense to shut her mouth then, and she pumped her fingers into her with more force than she would have thought possible. Her tongue felt good and hot against her – Pansy wondered vaguely how much practice she'd had to get _this_ good – and every so often, she would moan quietly against Pansy's clit and drive her even closer to the edge.

Pansy lost her balance and almost slipped off the table when she came. Every muscle in her body clenched and tightened and she barely managed to keep herself from screaming, and before she had even quite completely finished, Padma was standing up and wiping her fingers on Pansy's skirt with a satisfied look on her face.

"Was that what you wanted?" she asked, with a hint of a taunt in her voice. "Was that what you had in mind when you told me to eat you?"

"Not exactly." Pansy pushed her hair back and wiped perspiration from her forehead, trying to regain her composure – a difficult task, given the circumstance.

"Didn't think so." Padma stretched her arms out, then propped one hand on her hip and smirked at her. "But listen, I've got a good idea… how about this…" She leaned in close. "How about you don't give me any more trouble about me being the new dancer who you're scared is going to take away your place as star–"

"That's not what I–"

"And we can do this again after every show."

Pansy shut her mouth abruptly.

"That sounds like a fair deal to me."

)O(  
_Fin_


End file.
